by Arunabha Sengupta
1990. Mike Gatting found himself in the very hotbed of a political turmoil that he neither claimed to understand nor had any illusion of being able to control.
“I’m no traitor. I do not see myself as a traitor because I am going off to earn a living by playing cricket in South Africa. I think I’ve been a loyal person. I’ve given a lot of my life to cricket. It’s time for me to put my family first,” he had said.
But, Daily Mail screamed “Blood Money Cricket Storm”, The Times warned of “Rebel Threat to British Sport”, Daily Mirror even declared “Judas would have been proud of them all”.
Only recently, in 1989, ICC had formalised the rule that participation in South Africa through playing, coaching or administration would result in a ban of three to five years. The ad-hoc handing out of suspensions had been brought to an end.
Yet, one of England’s proudest cricketers and former captain agreed to go there.
The allegations of a tabloid newspaper of taking a waitress to his hotel room, the resulting shitstorm leading him to be sacked as skipper—these had been too much for him. Marshall breaking his nose, Border getting him caught playing the reverse sweep in the World Cup final… even the Shakoor Rana affair, all had seemed mild in retrospect.
At the same time Ali Bacher had been in London—championing the cause of his country’s cricket at the Wisden dinner, talking of racial integration taking place in South African cricket and busy recruiting an English team to play yet another rebel series. Decent Test caps such as Chris Broad, Bill Athey, Richard Ellison, Tim Robinson, Matthew Maynard, Paul Jarvis and John Emburey were lured in. As the biggest surprise Gatting signed up as skipper.
Gatting proclaimed— or rather insisted—that he would meet any protester in South Africa.
Meanwhile apartheid South Africa was undergoing immense changes. In January 1989, President PW Botha suffered a stroke. His successor, FW De Klerk, a staunch pro-apartheid man for ages, surprised all with a series of reforms. In September 1989, the prohibition on political protests was lifted.
Hence, violent protests and police action became features of the 1990 tour.
The first tour match had to be moved from East London to Kimberley to escape the ANC agitators.
To keep his promise to petitioners, Gatting met young anti-tour leaders during the last day of the match against South African Universities. While handing over the paper, one petitioner called John Sogoneco removed his short to reveal buckshot wounds from police action. A stunned Gatting responded that it was not something he could help him with.
At Pietermaritzbug, Gating was requested by petitioners to walk through a sea of demonstrators — most of them chanting ‘Gatting go home’—get on a podium and receive the piece of paper outlining their demands. Against frantic pleas not to go ahead with this, Gatting defiantly did as he was asked. Walking back to his mates, he continued on his way back to the pavilion, picked up his hat and marched into the field to continue the game, calling his men to join him. He had been naïve, but few could question his bravery.
But perhaps Gatting’s last straw was when the protestors struck where it hurt him the most.
Black restaurant staff refused to serve the English cricketers food. The team had to be cordoned off from the multi-racial dining rooms and had to use the self-service buffet. No one would cook for them.
And Gatting wanted steaks … for himself and, well, for the team.
He fumed, he frothed. Then he steeled himself, got up and marched into the kitchen. Once there, amongst the rather stunned kitchen staff, he proceeded to cook steaks himself.
He could withstand all protests with sympathy, but not this.
The steaks were too high.
That is not all.
Years later, seated in the Middlesex Members’ Box he tells me: “we actually served the whole restaurant. It was very enjoyable, a fascinating evening. The people who worked in the kitchen were told they had to leave because the England team were going there. We turned up there and they walked out. We knew this might happen, so we said to the owners, ‘We are very sorry that this happened, but we can cook if you want us to.’ We told the customers ‘We’ll cook fish and chips, we’ll cook steak and salad … if you are happy with that.’ I think to this day that it is one of the things I will probably never forget. The people in the restaurant were unbelievable.”
The morning after the conclusion of the first ‘Test’, Nelson Mandela was released from prison.
The second ‘Test’ was supposed to be held in Cape Town. However, an explosion near the ground ensured that the fixture was cancelled.
The Mass Democratic Movement declared: “If Gatting can make his own food, then he ought to be quite capable of making his way back to London in an emergency situation.”
The team did return. The match at Johannesburg remained the 19th and last ever rebel ‘Test’.
Mike Gatting was born on 6 June 1957.